To Be Clean
by Its-Lofty
Summary: Alfred F. Jones, a cancer-diagnosed congressman needs a cure, and he needs it fast. Matthew Williams is a man with a mysterious ability that could help Alfred in more ways than one. This could be the start of a beautifully terrifying friendship.
1. A New Meeting

It started with a sandwich.

The sandwich wasn't special in any way, shape or form. No, it was just a ham and cheese (lettuce and mustard, too) on a ciabatta bun sandwich, but the one who ordered the sandwich, well, he was special.

Kind of. Sort of. Maybe. _Soon to be._

Special in the way that he was very well known. And very well known in the fact that he was Alfred F. Jones, hero extraordinaire. Well no, okay, that's a lie, but he does do some really awesome (at least, in his opinion), donating to charities kind of thing. And no, he doesn't do it just to look good to the public. He donates because A, he doesn't need the damn money, and B, there are people in far more need then he is.

Even if his lungs are rebelling against him. But he doesn't want to think about that until he talks to who he and Arthur are looking for. And conveniently enough, they're just about to walk into the small deli along Main Street where this certain person supposedly works.

His name is Matthew Williams, and Alfred and his two friends have been looking for him for a few weeks now. It's been very hard, to say the least.

"It would not have been as hard as you are making it out to be if you had actually made an effort to help us, you twit," spoke his long time friend and now work partner, Arthur Kirkland, an irritable Brit he'd befriended years ago before his university days. He really was bad-tempered; Alfred definitely wasn't making that part up. Whether it was the fact that he was surrounded by Americans he always claimed to dislike, his short but shaggy blonde hair that constantly got in the way of his emerald green eyes, or maybe, just maybe, the fact that he's friends with someone as American as they come, and someone who delights in making fun of his overly large eyebrows. Every. Single. Day.

"It's like they've got a life of their own, Artie, I swear they do!" And every time Alfred would say that, Arthur couldn't help but grow red in indignation and strike the back of Alfred's head, effectively knocking that whiter-than-white smile off Alfred's face and making his cerulean blue eyes water in pain. He also did a good job at messing his normally short but well-behaved blonde hair into a scraggly mess (although that one piece of hair near his forehead would not lay flat at all).

Alfred adjusted his square glasses lightly and peered into the deli, attempting to get a good look at everyone who was inside, and maybe he would spot the person they were looking for.

Rolling his eyes as the American peered in through the window, Arthur walked up to the door and pulled it open, gesturing inside.

"Would it not be so much simpler to just walk inside and take a seat? It seems like a quaint little place and I would rather like a cup of tea. And maybe a scone, if they have them..." Alfred rolled his eyes but nonetheless leaned away from the glass and entered the deli with Arthur on his heel, who was mumbling under his breath about why he was friends with such an idiotic American in the first place. Alfred just grinned; choosing to ignore Arthur's jibe at him and took a quick gaze around the deli, intending to find a seat.

That ended up being unnecessary, as a girl with shoulder length strawberry blonde hair held back slightly by a red ribbon and bright green eyes made her way in between a few tables that stood between her and the entrance where both Alfred and Arthur stood. Smiling lightly, the girl (whose name tag read Belle), guided them towards a small table and tapped her pen on a pad of paper that Alfred swore she'd just pulled out of her chest area (although maybe it was from one of the shirt pockets...her shirt did have quite a few of them).

"Hello there, and welcome to The Sandwich Garden! My name is Laura, and I'm here to tell you that A, we're out of Roast beef today, so there will be no roast beef sandwiches, and B, when you'd like to order your food, you can just head up to that counter over there and place your order. Now, can I get you two gentlemen a drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?" Alfred grinned up at the waitress who was still tapping her pen on the pad of paper while gazing down at them expectantly and ordered what he always ordered.

"Just a coffee with one sugar, thanks." The girl named Laura pointed with her pen towards a small bowl in the centre of the table that Al only just noticed was filled with small packets of sugar. Grinning sheepishly, Alfred managed to laugh his absent-mindedness off, whereas the girl just smiled knowingly and turned to Arthur for his order, which predictably, was tea with milk on the side.

Once the girl had sauntered off to retrieve their drinks, Alfred leaned back into the back of the plush chair and gazed around the room with a lazy grin on his face. Arthur just clasped his hands together and rested them on the table, but he was also looking around, albeit slightly more subtly than Al (because really, Alfred and subtle were like antonyms to each other). Alfred's eyes finished scanning the small crowd and landed back on Arthur, who was quite literally, twiddling his thumbs.

"So what exactly is this kid supposed to look like? I can't remember, and you only showed me one picture of him..."

"Well maybe if you actually tried helping Kiku and I find this 'kid' instead of being a lazy git, you would actually know what he looks like! Bloody hell, you're the one who needs this kid's help, after all...Anyway. He is young, only about twenty-two? He looks a lot younger, mind you. Bit of a baby face. Longish blonde hair and he wears glasses, like you. He looks lanky, really. His name is Ma...hmm. Martin? No, but it starts with an M...oh, give me a second."

Alfred just chuckled and resumed his looking around as Arthur opened the briefcase he'd been lugging around for the greater part of the day. He pulled out a manila folder that he slid across the table to Alfred, who promptly picked it up and began to scan each page with interest.

"Hey now, you're the one who wanted to help me. I wasn't even interested in this damn idea, and for all we know, Gilbert is talking out of his ass about this. _Again._ We all know how he is with this sort of – oh, thank you miss." Alfred broke his rant and snapped the folder shut, just as Laura (but according to her name tag, 'Belle') returned with his cup of black coffee –which smelled just _heavenly_- and Arthur's tea and milk, who nodded appreciatively before adding milk to his tea. Sipping it and smiling briefly, he placed it back down onto the table before directing a piercing stare towards Alfred, who cringed slightly but didn't back off. After all, Alfred didn't believe in this sort of thing. How could he?

"Yes well, we sometimes know how his stories are in fact, well, fact. And he was right about the boy's name and where he works. Perhaps he is right about this ability the boy has. Like I said, it is at least worthy of checking out. If what Gilbert says this boy can do proves to be truth, than he would definitely be worth asking for assistance with your condition."

"Yeah, he could be right. Or he could just know about this kid's workplace and is now just sending us on a wild goose chase. He's done it before, Artie, and even if you did threaten to rip off all his toes individually, he'll do it again. Other than discovering this awesome little deli, I'm almost ready to call today a complete and utter waste of ti-"

...

Arthur raised one of his rather prominent eyebrows in question to Alfred's sudden stop in conversation and noticed that the other's coffee was halfway to his mouth, eyes frozen in place, staring directly over Arthur's shoulder.

"Alfred, what on earth are you staring at? You look even more so like a bloody buffoon than normal." Huffing slightly when Alfred refused to even respond to the taunt, Arthur began to turn himself in his seat to look behind him and see what the hell Alfred was so intently gazing upon.

However, it seemed that the movement caused Alfred to jump out of his zoned out state, for he quickly reached out and grabbed at Arthur's arm, squeezing it and ignoring the wince that followed from Arthur.

"No, don't turn around, he might figure out that we're looking for him and scare him off! He looks like he spooks easily." Arthur rolled his eyes but nonetheless untwisted himself in his chair so that he was once again facing Alfred. Clearly Matthew had made an appearance at last, and had caught Alfred's attention.

No matter. They'd talk with him soon. Taking back the folder from Alfred's hands, he flipped it open and gazed down at the info within, ignoring the small picture tacked on the top.

"So his name is Matthew Williams, age 22, living alone in an apartment complex in the Art Museum neighbourhood of Philadelphia. He is working full time at this deli and...Alfred, you are dazing again. Honestly, what on earth...?" Alfred, whose gaze had once again travelled over Arthur's shoulder, jumped slightly at Arthur's clipped tone and once again attempted to focus on the Brit.

"So his name is Matthew? Awesome. Listen, I'm getting hungry, so why don't we go order a sandwich or something?" Ignoring Arthurs protest of 'I'm still finishing my tea you git', Alfred jumped up from his chair and grabbed Arthur by the arm, pulled him away from his tea and dragged him to the deli bar where he noticed a deeply tanned man with dreadlocked hair handing a sandwich to another customer.

Looking away from the woman as he wished her a nice day, the dreadlocked man gazed over the two of them and frowned. Turning around, he pushed his way through a set of doors behind the counter and started to speak out to his fellow co-worker who was currently crouching on the ground by the sounds of where Arthur was sure he was hearing some very colourful language.

"Hey Matthew, I'm heading out on my break now, can you take care of the counter for now?"

"Yeah, fine, just –fuck where the hell is the damn container of mustard- just don't take your sweet time like you did last time you just went to 'take a break', otherwise you're going to find yourself without working kneecaps and don't even- oh, hello there..." The owner of the voice revealed himself as he straightened up, holding a large yellow container and came face to face with two men who definitely weren't there a few seconds ago. Turning his head away from the both of them, the boy did something that clearly made the dreadlocked man laugh and wave his hand slightly before disappearing through the doors.

The boy placed the giant yellow container (which Arthur assumed was mustard, judging by what the boy had been saying earlier) on the counter and turned around, his blonde locks flipping slightly as he did so, and offered the two a kind smile.

"I apologize for that, he's grouchy when he hasn't had a smoke within 3 hours. So, what can I get for the two of you?"

How lucky Alfred and Arthur were. They'd not only managed to find the one they'd been looking for, now they were talking to him. _How fortunate,_ thought Arthur, as he looked above Matthew's head to the chalk board that listed the many different types of sandwiches the deli had to offer (although the roast beef sandwich had been crossed off the board) as well as different types of soup. His eyes lit up a bit as he noticed a very specific soup listed.

"You have creamy onion soup, I see. Wonderful. I will take a bowl of that if you would not mind. Oh, and I also had a tea before, I suppose I will need to pay for that now?" Nodding slightly, Matthew tapped at the cash register as Arthur fumbled with his wallet before looking over to Alfred who had been surprisingly quiet this whole time. Which, to say the least, was very odd for Alfred.

"And what can I get for you sir? Along with your coffee, of course, which I hope was adequate?" Arthur looked over to Alfred who was frowning slightly but thankfully, was not staring at Matthew like Arthur assumed he'd been doing a few seconds prior (_And now I know what he was staring at before.._.). He was now looking at the chalk board above Matthews head and appeared to be zoning out slightly.

"Er...sir? Are you going to order anything, or should I just ring you in the coffee?" Matthew said as he accepted Arthur's cash and rang it in. Alfred jumped slightly at Matthew's voice before grinning and pointing towards the chalkboard with a leather-gloved hand.

"I was hoping for roast beef, but I guess I'll settle for a ham sandwich on a ciabatta bun, thanks. Oh, yeah, and the coffee too, Matthew. That'd be great." Alfred rummaged in his coat pocket, going over his iPod and keys to grab his wallet and pull out the appropriate amount to pay. He looked up, expecting to be told an amount, but raised an eyebrow when he noticed Matthew was just staring at him.

"Umm, are you going to tell me what I owe you or am I going to have to add it up myse-"

"How did you know my name?"

Alfred paused for a moment. "Excuse me?"

Matthew glared a bit and folded his arms, making it clear he was not pleased.

"You just called me Matthew. I never told you my name." Alfred balked and started to mentally panic. He could tell Arthur was as well because the Brit had just begun stammering and attempting to apologize.

"Your name? How'd I know your name? Oh, well, that is..." He paused for a moment and looked around, trying to find something or someone that would get him out of the mess he'd already caused and _dammit he'd known the guy for less than 5 minutes and he was already messing up this much he didn't see how this was going to work at all_ and as Alfred slipped his hands in his pockets, his hands brushed over his lighter which reminded him of the dreadlocked man gone outside for a smoke.

"The other guy! The other guy who works here, he said your name as he left which is why I knew your name. Makes sense, right?" Matthew didn't stop the intense stare he was directing at Alfred, making it clear that he didn't believe him, but he nonetheless uncrossed his arms and let loose a sigh as he entered in the amount of Alfred's sandwich and coffee into the register.

After accepting Alfred's payment, Matthew turned towards Arthur and offered him a polite smile.

"Your soup will be ready in a moment, sir." With that said, Matthew turned and began making himself busy on the other side of the counter with a bowl, a ladle and a large amount of crackers. Arthur let out an explosive sigh before stepping slightly closer to Alfred and turning around so his back was to the counter and more importantly, Matthew.

"You could not have messed that up more."

"Sure I could've. I could've just jumped across the counter, held him hostage and demanded everyone's cash. That would've gone well."

"You have been watching too many of your law shows again, Alfred."

"I actually haven't been watching enough. I'm so behind in them that I've got five recordings I still have to watch on top of this week's episode. Anyway, I didn't screw up that bad, he's making me my sandwich, isn't he?" Alfred grinned as he said this, obviously thinking that his little mishap with the name slip hadn't amounted to anything bad. Arthur merely rolled his eyes and turned back around as he heard the clink of ceramic on surface, indicating Matthew had prepared his bowl of soup.

"Ah, wonderful lad, thank you so much. Oh and thank you for the crackers, they will be wonderful with this." Alfred laughed as he watched Arthur take his bowl and carefully make his way back to their table before turning back and waiting for his sandwich. He was rather surprised to see Matthew staring at him through his glasses with such an intense gaze that he felt slightly unnerved. And his eyes. Well, they were something else entirely. Purple? No, they couldn't be. They had to be more of a really deep blue.

Well whatever they were, they were _intense. _Rubbing the back of his head and grinning slightly, Alfred began to turn the lighter in his pocket over and over while waiting for his sandwich.

"What do you want on your sandwich, Alfred?" That caused Alfred to stop, cross his own arms and stare at Matthew accusingly.

"Well now, this is like the pot calling the kettle black. Why do you know my name, Matthew?" With that said Alfred took slight gratification in seeing Matthew redden slightly before turning around and pulling out a ciabatta bun and cutting it in half with a bit too much force.

"I have ears too you know, I could hear you and your friend talking a mile away. You're both rather loud when you talk, did you know that?" Matthew turned and felt a small grin of satisfaction creep onto his face as he watched Alfred open and close his mouth foolishly.

"I'll say it again. What do you want on your sandwich?" Alfred frowned and backed off as Matthew turned around and started placing a few pieces of ham on the ciabatta. _Right little ray of sunshine this one is._

"I'll take cheese, lettuce and mustard. No tomato, no mayonnaise, no pickle. Blech, pickle on a sandwich is just nasty." Alfred was ready to go off on a tangent about how this one restaurant thought it would be a good idea to put relish and pickles on his burger but was cut off when Matthew slid his sandwich towards him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Enjoy your meal and have a nice day...sir." Alfred's eyebrows rose as Matthew abruptly turned around and began busying himself with the counter he'd just sullied from making Alfred's sandwich. Chuckling, he picked up his sandwich and began to walk away.

"Yeah, you too...Matthew." Grinning at the way Matthew tensed, he almost skipped back to the table where Arthur was very much enjoying his soup.

Looking up at the approaching blonde, Arthur swallowed his next bite and placed the spoon down, watching as Alfred took the seat opposite him again and dug into his sandwich.

With a bit of a scowl directed the others way, Arthur spoke.

"So what do we do now?"

"Now," Alfred said through a bite of sandwich, "We wait."

Arthur rolled his eyes and began to eat his soup once again.

"Brilliant."

* * *

><p>Matthew Williams had been having a good day.<p>

He'd woken up around 7:30 AM in his very average apartment and prepared for his day. Showered, made coffee and had a quick breakfast of toast and jam before beginning his 35 minute walk to the deli he worked at. It was a short walk in comparison to his old job, but he didn't mind it.

He just did a lot more of it now.

Even after getting to work, he'd been having a good day. He and Miguel were working together, and it wasn't so busy that he couldn't spare a few minutes in between customers to read a bit of the newspaper he'd picked up along the way.

It had started to go downhill when the business man had dumped his cup of coffee on the counter because 'it had too much sugar in it'. Matthew had held his patience, apologized and refilled the man's coffee for free. But the man didn't even pay for the sandwich he ordered. Now that had irritated Matthew a bit, because there was clearly nothing wrong with the sandwich, the man just wanted to milk a small incident for all it was worth.

And milk it he did. He was yelling in Matthew's face, speaking slowly as if Matthew didn't understand what he was saying, like he was stupid and couldn't understand English. He was Canadian; of course he could understand English. He didn't look foreign either, what with his almost dirty-blonde hair cut a tad too long to his shoulders falling around his face in loose curls (that he really did not enjoy in the summer) or his pale skin. It was obvious he was able to speak English, right? (He'd only been doing it all morning...and when he was taking the guys order) _Although_, with a wry thought to himself, _maybe it's the eyes that are so off-putting. Foreign looking, maybe?_

Violet eyes are rare and creepy looking too, according to a friend of Matt's who caught Matthew staring at him for a little too long. Said friend still gets a little wary when Matt zones out and stares.

"_It's like he's staring through my damn soul, for chrissake!" _the friend had said.

Matt never did say whether or not he stares on purpose. His smile just grows all the wider which answers everyone's question that yes, Matthew Williams is not a normal 22 year old.

Matthew already knew that.

But let's get back to the problem at hand.

Matthew had tried to let that incident pass him by, to not let it bother him, but then the new bus-boy, some small blonde kid by the name of Raivis had dropped a full bin of dishes after a customer had told him he was in the way.

Thank god almost all of the dishes made it out of the bin alive. What his boss would have done if he'd broken all of them, he didn't want to know. Matthew had been annoyed by the customer, but he'd just held it in and managed to vent his displeasure by kneading some bread into oblivion.

Just as he was beginning to get back into the flow of his work day, Matthew was once again annoyed by the fact that someone (and he highly suspected it was Miguel) had not refilled the mustard container. He'd then spent the next ten minutes looking for the damn giant refill jug, and just as he'd suspected it was a lost cause, he'd heard Miguel mention something about going on break. Sighing, Matthew had straightened up, but not before finding the jug (hidden at the back of the freaking cupboard, and he was _so _going to kill Miguel when he got back) and suddenly came face to face with two men who were not there when he'd started his hunt for the sneaky mustard container. He whipped his head around and sent an annoyed glare towards Miguel who just laughed and walked out the back, leaving Matthew to the new customers. Sighing again, he turned around to face them, each of who were wearing the same, odd expression.

Both were staring at him with something that looked like...relief? He didn't understand it, but maybe they just thought they'd been hearing voices and when they saw him they realized they weren't going insane. Rubbing his eyes from under his glasses wearily, he offered a smile to the two men and gestured slightly to the back doors.

"I apologize for that, he's grouchy when he hasn't had a smoke within 3 hours. So, what can I get for the two of you?" He fully expected a quick answer, but instead was offered silence as the two slowly looked above his head towards the chalkboard that he'd crossed off 'roast beef' from not twenty minutes ago. One of the men, the one he'd decided had absolute monsters for eyebrows, pointed out the soup of the day and decided upon that. As Matthew took his payment, he couldn't help but notice that the other man was continually flicking his eyes from the chalkboard down to his face. Frowning slightly, Matthew attempted to get the man's attention (and discretely check if there was anything on his face, because really, why else would the guy be staring?).

"Er...sir? Are you going to order anything, or should I just ring you in the coffee?" As Matthew waited for the man to make up his mind, he couldn't help but notice that he had some seriously blue eyes. They weren't bright like his friend Ludwig's, but they weren't like his own either (no one had eyes like his, as his other friend Yong Soo would say). This man's eyes were more like a deep sea blue, but the glasses the man wore seemed to obscure them slightly.

Matthew was knocked out of his observations when he picked up the tail end of what the man was saying, and what he said caused him to frown.

"...settle for a ham sandwich on a ciabatta bun, thanks. Oh, yeah, and the coffee too, Matthew. That'd be great." Matthew frowned and stopped. How'd this guy know his name? He was sure he hadn't introduced himself as such, and besides. You don't just go around calling the people you've known for less than 5 minutes by name, and so friendly like.

And besides, thinking about it, hadn't these guys been acting a little odd during their entire stay? They constantly had been looking around, as if looking for something, and they kept looking into a small folder.

Yes, Matthew Williams was a people watcher. He had no problem admitting it, and he knew he was good at it, because he knew how to blend in and people were often surprised to find him seated where they previously thought was an empty chair.

Once again, his thoughts were interrupted by the man with the very blue eyes, but this time he didn't let the man finish and interrupted him.

"How did you know my name?" The man paused and looked slightly perplexed before giving a confused response.

Matthew was not impressed. Crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes in what he hoped was a threatening pose, he retorted with a bit of anger.

"You just called me Matthew. I never told you my name." A small grin crept onto his face as he watched the two across from him blanch as if they'd just been caught with their hand in the ever metaphorical cookie jar. The one with big eyebrows had begun to stutter out something along the lines of an apology, whereas the other began to dart his eyes around the room before stopping and grinning as if an idea had suddenly struck him.

"The other guy! The other guy who works here, he said your name as he left which is why I knew your name. Makes sense, right?" Matthew stopped, clearly not expecting this answer. Had Miguel said his name? Well, damn. However, there was no way Matthew believed the reasoning the other had just come up with, but he had no further evidence to say they were lying, so with a sigh, he accepted Alfred's payment and began busying himself with the Eyebrow man's soup.

As he began the process of ladling a decent amount into a bowl for the man, he couldn't help but overhear the men's conversation; specifically because they were loud, even when they were trying not to be.

"...watching too many of your law shows again, Alfred." The one with the eyebrows said, which made Matthew come to the conclusion that the one with the blue eyes was called Alfred. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he couldn't help but feel annoyed. He had just been getting back into the groove of work without problems when these two had showed up. Grinding his teeth, he turned and placed the soup on the counter, where one of the men thanked him and turned away, leaving him with the one named Alfred. He couldn't help but glare at the man who was clearly unnerved by it.

"What do you want on your sandwich, Alfred?" Matthew chuckled inwardly as he watched Alfred's eyes widen a bit before narrowing in suspicion, because after all, how could Matthew know his name? And he voiced his opinion on just that, causing Matthew to snarl in his head because how could this guy say that when he started the literal name calling?

"I have ears too you know, I could hear you and your friend talking a mile away. You're both rather loud when you talk, did you know that?" Okay, well that was a slight lie. Yes, they were both loud, but it was easy to drown them out when you didn't want to hear them. However, Matthew had wanted to hear them, and so, had. And Matthew took small gratification noticing how that seemed to stop the man in his tracks.

Repeating his last question, he turned around and grabbed a ciabatta bun, cutting it aggressively in order to let some of his previous stress go. Listening as Alfred twittered off three additional ingredients and then what he didn't want, Matthew managed to zone him out. He just wanted to get these two their food and then out of the deli. After they left he could have a good day. Turning around as Alfred started going on a rant about pickles, he placed the sandwich on the counter and stared at Alfred with an air of finality, a cool smile in place.

"Enjoy your meal and have a nice day...sir." Matthew felt that even though these two had hit the final button that made Matthew Williams into a bit of a passive-aggressive ass, he couldn't be 100% rude to them. That was, at least, until Alfred called him by his name again. Okay, that guy was too annoying to want to deal with again. Giving up, he just went back to what he'd been doing before those two had shown up. They'd be out of his head in a few hours, and he wouldn't have to worry about them from there.

Unfortunately, this would not be so for Matthew. Once those two had finished their food, they'd just sat at one of the tables and chatted with each other. For 5 hours. Matthew now wouldn't be able to get them out of his head for awhile, because they'd been consistently in his line of vision, from the cash register, to the coffee maker, to the tables surrounding the two. By the end of the day, even Miguel was steering clear of him, because a grouchy Matthew was a scary Matthew.

Miguel still had the marks on his arm to prove it.

As Matthew finally bid Miguel and Raivis goodbye (of course he'd be the one to close up tonight), he squared himself and walked over to the two who had stopped their chatting upon noticing his approach.

"I'm sorry, but we are closing up now, as it is 8:30. So if you would kindly leave, it would be much appreciated..." Matthew hoped that the two would be accommodating, and he smiled in relief as it sounded like they would be, with the first words Arthur said.

"Oh yes, of course we can leave," Matthew nodded and turned to walk away "just as soon as we talk to you, Matthew Williams." And just like that, he froze. He knew Miguel had definitely not called him Matthew Williams, so there was no way they should have known his whole name, unless they already knew him, or knew of him. Either way, he didn't like it. Crossing his arms, he glared down at both men, who just looked so unimpressed.

"Okay, so how do you actually know my name? Because I'm pretty sure my friend earlier didn't call me by my whole name." Expecting an apology or a stuttering response, Matthew was surprised when he just got a small laugh from the one with eyebrows.

"Research is where I got the name. Along with your age, 22, where you live, Parkway houses, and that you have a very odd ability that allows you to remove diseases and various medical problems from whoever you touch." Matthew blanched. How the hell could this guy know about that? He'd barely done any jobs before this (only when he was really hurting for cash and when Lars knew someone that might need some help; he always seemed to just know when someone needed help), and he was so sure he'd been discreet and careful.

Taking a step back away from them, Matthew turned his eyes towards the man who'd spoken.

"Well, for one, I don't appreciate the snooping. Two, I don't know what you're talking about, what you say is just ludicrous. And three, since you all seem to know about me, how about you let me know something about you?" Arthur, clearly having not expected this, raised one of those large eyebrows before grinning and clasping his hands on the small table.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, I work with Alfred," he gestured towards the man across from him, who was now playing with the small sugar packets on the table, "who is the Congressman serving Philadelphia's first district. We are actually here for him, so if you could just sit down, we would be willing to explain just what we need your assistance wi-"

"I don't know what you're talking about. And while it's been lovely meeting you two, I need to close up shop. So if you'll excuse me, I must ask you to leave." As Matthew turned away from the two, he heard a sigh, and he hoped it was a sigh of resignation. Alas, luck really wasn't on Matthew's side tonight.

"Do you know a man by the name of Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

Freezing in his steps, he turned around and glared at the two men who were now looking at him with something akin to success. He couldn't help but feel slightly defeated. Of course they'd heard it from Gilbert. That idiot had the loosest lips Matthew knew of. Closing his eyes and rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he spoke, his voice sounding somewhat defeated.

"He's my friend's brother." At those words, Arthur grinned and clapped Alfred on his shoulder, which seemed to bring Alfred out of his sugar-pack-sorting stupor.

"Yes, I thought you might. Most excellent. See, he told us all about you. Told us what you can do, what you are capable of and what you did for him." Matthew sighed and removed the towel he'd been wringing into oblivion from his hands and placed it on the table, taking a seat beside Arthur, across from Alfred.

"Okay, fine. Let's say I can do what Gilbert says I can. Let's say I can do something so freakish. What do you need help with? Allergies? A nasty case of E. Coli poisoning? Hepati-"

"Cancer. He-" He pointed towards Alfred, who, Matthew noticed, was suddenly much more interested in the pocket of his jacket, "has lung cancer. So if you could help him, it would be greatly appreciated and we would pay you well for it." Matthew's heart sunk and he paled at the words. Standing slowly, he picked up the towel and resumed wringing it.

"I'm sorry, but that's something I can't do." Arthur looked mortified, whereas Alfred just continued looking down at his pockets. Matthew didn't want to look at either of them. Arthur quickly jumped up and placed himself in Matthew's field of vision, stopping him from just walking away.

"What- but we can pay - he needs the help-" Matthew merely shook his head and ignored Arthur's wild gesturing towards Alfred, who was still just looking down at the pockets to his jacket, and once again, Matthew attempted to side-step Arthur.

"Sorry, but I said I can't. You'll have to rely on today's modern health system. Good...good evening." He began to walk away but was suddenly pulled back roughly when Arthur grabbed onto his arm and yanked. Hard.

"The medical system we have right now isn't going to keep him alive! You can't just say no and then not tell me- tell him why!" Angered by Arthur's sudden out lash, Matthew ripped his arm out of Arthur's grip and glared daggers at the man, rubbing his wrist lightly.

"I can very easily say no without explaining, thank you. I barely know the two of you, so why should I bother explaining my..." Mathew trailed off when his eyes drifted over to Alfred, who had not once lifted his head to look at Matthew. With a sigh, Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I...I made a deal with a friend that I wouldn't do this sort of thing with major diseases like AIDS or cancer because of some...complications from what happened the last time I did that. I'm sorry, Truly. If it wasn't cancer, I would help you. Some things just can't be dealt with like this." At this point, Alfred did look up, and Matthew expected venomous words to be thrown at him and to tell him that 'how dare he do something like this' but all he got was a giant smile that, which, although was quite bright, held a tinge of sadness.

And that look made Matthew's heart sink and all Matthew could think of was how he could say something like this -what was wrong with him- and how could he turn someone down who so desperately needed the help?

"Listen, its fine, really. This was a long shot anyway, I wasn't expecting it to work, and even though it does, I didn't really believe it. So thanks for being honest, and sorry for taking up your time." With that, Alfred stood up and waved slightly before walking outside the deli into the brisk night air and rifled in his pockets, pulling out a lighter and a cigarette.

Arthur just shook his head and sighed, eying Matthew with something akin to disappointment. And Matthew just turned away, cheeks flushed red. As if he needed to feel any worse for saying no.

"He is not a bad guy, you know. The minute he became the congressman for Philadelphia, he started doing some serious good for the first district before he was diagnosed with...that. It is not fair. He is too young and promising to lose against this." Arthur looked towards Matthew who was now staring out at Alfred with a thoughtful gaze as the other merely stared upwards, the cigarette lazily hanging out of his mouth.

"I do not know why you made the deal with your friend, but please. Please think about going against it just this once. He needs to stick around and make this place better. He was doing a damn good job." Arthur turned his head towards Alfred and gasped as Alfred began to cough into his sleeve roughly, bent over slightly from the effort. He stumbled, and then quickly made a bee line for the door before stopping and addressing Matthew again.

"Please, please just think about it. I do not want to lose my best friend. Not now. Good night, Matthew Williams, I desperately hope we meet again soon." With that said, Arthur pushed open the door and Matthew watched as he placed an arm on Alfred's back and began rubbing circles slowly, hoping that the action would help his friend. Finally, the coughs died down and Alfred straightened up before smiling and waving Arthur off and saying something that Matthew couldn't hear.

Just as Matthew went to clean off the table, he noticed Alfred peering into the deli. He was even more surprised to see that Alfred was smiling and waving to him in farewell. Smiling weakly, he returned the wave before going back to finally closing up shop.

Sighing, Matthew took the towel from his shoulder and began aggressively wiping the table, more in an attempt to distract him from the two he'd just finished speaking with rather than actually cleaning it. Arthur's final departing words rang in his ears and Alfred's sad, accepting smile remained imprinted into his eyes.

"_I do not want to lose my best friend._" That's what Arthur had said, and ultimately, that's what made Matthew consider the whole deal. It wasn't that he wanted Alfred around just for work, he wanted his friend around. And the look on Alfred's face had been so accepting of his fate. He thought, or rather, he knew he was going to die. When, he wasn't sure, but he knew it was going to happen.

And Matthew felt terrible, because even though Alfred had said he didn't care, he knew that he'd been hopeful, if at least for a moment. And Matthew had crushed that hope.

With a growl of frustration he slapped the towel down, pulled out a small phone from his pocket and pressed 2 on the speed dial. Tapping his foot impatiently, Matthew listened to the ringing and waited for the other to pick-up.

"Allo?"

"Hey Ludwig, can I borrow your internet tonight when I'm done closing up?"

"Ja, sure. What's it for?"

"Just someon-some_thing_ I need to look into. And is your brother around?"

There was a pause on the other line before the other spoke again, with a rather questioning tone.

"Ja, he's here, why?"

Matthew growled under his breath, but grinned as he said his next words.

"Because I'm going to smash his kneecaps in for being such a damn blabber mouth."

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><p><strong>Well, urm. Hello! And thank you for reading the first chapter to this story! I'm very pleased you read it to the end, which might potentially show that my writing isn't complete fail OTL<strong>

**First off, I need to thank my wonderful beta-er and co-creator, Kie-chu! Without her, this story would have crumbled into nothing and I would never have bothered posting it. (You should go check her out, she wrote a very cute AmeCan fic, and is already in the process of writing another!)**

**Anywho, I will try to update every 2 weeks, but I can't guarantee anything...school starts up soon, and sometimes my inspiration just flies out the window.**

**Plus I have another idea for a fic that wouldn't be AU, so I might write that too. :P**

**Until next time, you awesome people!**

**Reviews are love...jus' saying. ;D **


	2. Determining the Future

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia or any of the things mentioned in the story! I only own the story itself.

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><p>It'd been a week since Matthew had met the annoyance that was Alfred F. Jones, and he was growing increasingly aggravated with the man, along with himself. The reason being was that his guilt at saying no to Alfred was now overwhelming.<p>

His aggravation had begun once he'd finished closing up the deli after the disastrous chat with Mr. Arthur Kirkland and Alfred Freaking Jones. He'd headed over to his long time friend Ludwig's house and after he'd discovered that Gilbert had 'gone out' (Ludwig had told Matthew that Gilbert had overheard the conversation on the phone and had promptly grabbed his coat and yelled something about going drinking), Matthew jumped onto Ludwig's computer and with the energy of 3 cups of coffee, began to search for any information on Alfred.

Because really, if he was going to turn the guy down, he should at least _know _who he was turning down.

With that thought, Matthew began his search by simply typing in 'Philadelphia Congressman first district' and was rewarded with over one million different links to choose from. Rolling his eyes, he merely clicked the first link, labelled 'Congressman Alfred f. Jones: Home' and was pleased (or not so pleased, take your pick) to see that Arthur had indeed been telling the truth; Alfred was the Congressman for Philadelphia's first district.

So Matthew began to browse. He clicked on every picture and link that accompanied them, intent to find out about all this good that Alfred had apparently done.

And as Matthew read more, the guilty feeling in his chest increased until it threatened to consume him entirely. And that was because as he researched, he came to a conclusion about Alfred Frigging Jones. Alfred was not normal.

Not at least, for a congressman. In Matthew's opinion, most congressmen were assholes who only worked for the money and never truly cared for the communities good. Unfortunately for Matthew, the one congressman he'd turned down who _was_ helping out and did care for the community, as opposed to the money, was the one and only Alfred Flipping Jones.

Matthew looked through picture after picture of Alfred; shaking hands with security guards for conferences, receiving awards for 'making an impact', presenting an award to an art student, cutting the ribbon of the opening of a new company, and many other pictures of Alfred's numerous apparent contributions and acts. With a slight amount of reluctance, Matthew hovered the mouse over the sidebar and clicked it. Groaning lightly as he was presented with 5 more links to press, he ignored the first and last one, one labelled as a biography and one labelled as press information.

If Matthew wanted to know anything personal about Alfred Flabbergasting Jones, then he would ask him himself. All Matthew wanted to know was if Alfred was as good a congressman as Arthur said he was.

Leaning back in his chair, Matthew sipped on his coffee gingerly and grimaced as he realized it'd gone too cold to be enjoyable any longer. Setting it down with an air of finality, he looked over the three remaining links and stopped, debating about which to click. He could check the caucuses that Alfred was supporting, the committees he was a part of, or perhaps he could look into all of Alfred _Frustrating_ Jones' accomplishments. Grinning at himself, Matthew clicked the link leading towards the accomplishments, because really, Matthew knew that he'd get completely lost trying to read the caucuses and all of the committees that were listed.

That grin quickly slipped off his face when he was presented the page of Alfred's accomplishments. His eyes widening slightly, Matthew couldn't believe just how long the page was; he'd expected maybe one small accomplishment with a small description of how it was helpful (after all, Alfred had only been a congressman for less than a year). What he didn't expect was to see an accomplishment labelled 'funding for the future' or another one talking of a committee labelled as 'the House Administration committee". Nor did he expect to see quite so much information regarding each accomplishment.

What he did read caused his eyes to widen slightly because it finally clicked in Matthew's head that he'd truly been an ass to one of the kindest people around.

Groaning, Matthew leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, sitting back and thinking about the man he'd just finished doing some rough research on. Some very annoying, utterly wonderful research that made Matthew want to rip out his heart, stare it down and ask it 'why, why do you smite me like this?', because he felt like shit.

What right did he have to say no to someone like this? Someone who had devoted himself to helping others tirelessly, who'd only been a congressman for a year?

Chuckling un-humourously to himself, Matthew lifted his head and glanced back at the screen with a picture of a grinning Alfred and his list of accomplishments. Frowning slightly at the picture, he noticed the slight difference between the picture of Alfred and Alfred himself. The picture was vibrant, and it was clear that Alfred was quite healthy. His cheeks were full of colour, his skin was a shade darker than what would be considered normal and his hair was thick. Compared to the view of Alfred Matthew had seen the previous week, the Alfred in the picture looked much better.

The Alfred at the deli seemed just slightly smaller, with a thinner face and his hair laid a little flatter, and his cheeks didn't have as much colour. Matthew just grumbled under his breath as he stared down the picture, hoping it would suddenly change to a more normal looking man, or perhaps it would match up with the image of Alfred from the deli.

When nothing (as he'd expected, but couldn't help but hope) happened to make the picture seem a little less healthy, Matthew slid his hands off the desk and let his head make a resounding thunk against the solid oak of the desk.

_How the hell could I even think that this wasn't going to bother me? What on earth possessed me to even think it would be a good idea to look into this guy? What a stupid idea, Matthew, because clearly it was a good idea to make yourself feel like an absolute ass for saying no to this Alfred 'furiating Jones and not feel any remorse about it. So here's the next question. What're you going to do about it? _

"What are you doing?" A voice startled Matthew from his thoughts, and he glanced up to see Ludwig giving him an odd look; one that would have been akin to 'are you trying to make yourself stupid?' Lifting his head up and stretching his arms, Matthew glanced at Ludwig with a quizzical look.

"I was thinking..."

"That's an odd way to be thinking Matthew. Banging your head against a wooden desk is probably a better way to make you stop thinking. I don't believe it's known to be good brain stimulus." Matthew simply stared at Ludwig for a moment before he noticed that his head was now hurting quite a bit. Gingerly, he raised his hand to his head and was surprised to feel that there was a small bump forming.

"...How long had I been doing that for?"

Ludwig merely rolled his eyes and picked up Matthew's coffee mug, glancing down at the cold remains and sloshing them around lightly.

"Well, I started hearing the thumping a few minutes ago if that's anything to go on." Ludwig let a small smile grace his lips as he watched Matthew groan and lean back in his chair, rubbing his head in an attempt to rid himself of the pain. Really, his friend could lose himself in thought so much sometimes that Ludwig had to start watching him constantly to make sure that Matthew didn't walk into telephone poles or fall into ditches (yes, it had happened before).

"Honestly, Matthew, you need to pay more attention and stop losing yourself in thought like that...hey, what are you looking at?" Ludwig, who'd been in the motion of turning around to take Matthew's mug to his kitchen, paused as his eyes fell onto the computer monitor where the picture of a blonde haired man wearing a suit and glasses was grinning back at him. Curiousity piqued, Ludwig leaned forward to read the information, but was slightly surprised when he heard the faint click of a mouse button and the disappearance of the picture.

Looking down towards Matthew, Ludwig raised an eyebrow in question.

Matthew had the grace to look mildly flustered.

"That was just some guy that showed up at the deli today, and I thought he looked familiar...so I went looking and found him." Matthew turned his eyes back towards the computer as he said this, opening a new tab in his internet browser, followed by his email account address. Turning his head back towards Ludwig, he was not in the slightest surprised to see him still staring.

"So? Who was he, then? I assume that you figured out who it was, you've been on my computer for a good while now." Matthew grimaced and looked away from Ludwig again, determined not to tell him that he'd spent the first little while on his computer learning about different types of lung cancer.

"Oh, uh, he was just the owner of the car dealership we went to a few months ago, remember? When you got your new car?"

"Oh. Did he work there? I don't remember someone like him." Matthew sighed and spun the chair around so he was facing Ludwig again, though this time he wore a face of slight amusement.

"You were busy, remember? Signing the papers for your car, so I took a walk around and I ended up seeing him. That's all." Chuckling at Ludwig's confused face; Matthew let a small smile stretch his lips. "It's not a big deal, I was just curious." Ludwig continued to look confused for a moment longer before shrugging his shoulders and turning away, headed for the kitchen.

With a feeling of slight panic (knowing Ludwig was even slightly suspicious), Matthew maximized the internet browser and began copying the links about lung cancer and Alfred into an email sent to his own email address. He let out a sigh as he pressed 'send' and quickly wiped the browser history so that Ludwig wouldn't know what he was looking up.

Because if Ludwig found out that Matthew was even considering doing anything in relation to his ability, Ludwig would do everything in his power to stop Matthew.

And Matthew didn't want to place that guilt or stress on Ludwig.

* * *

><p>And that's how Matthew had increased the amount of guilt he felt for Alfred <em>motheroffuckingpearl<em> Jones to a ridiculous level. He'd finished reading up on the several different types of lung cancers, and he'd even read into a few of the committees he was a part of, he'd finally, fully realized just how much of an ass he'd been for turning the guy down without even considering his position. Matthew had also come to the conclusion (once again), that his gift should be used for something like this, even if the repercussions were going to be dangerous.

At this point, he just didn't care. He wanted to figure out if Alfred really was worth it. But Matthew knew he couldn't trust the internet or the media of any sort. No, he'd have to go to someone who knew Alfred personally.

Narrowing his eyes and twisting the rag in his hand that he'd been using to clean out the oven in the back of the deli, Matthew thought of Arthur and how he'd hoped to see him again, and soon.

_Yeah, sure...say that and don't offer me any way of getting into contact with you...that's what you do when you need someone's help...right. Call me crazy but that seems like an idiots move. _Glaring at the oven door as he slammed it shut with more force than necessary, Matthew twisted on the balls of his feet and made his way back to the front where Raivis, the new bus boy, was attempting to work cash; Yao, his boss, had made a small mistake in the schedule this week and put only Raivis and Matthew on duty, meaning Matthew had to sit and train someone who was only meant to be a bus boy how to work the cash register.

"Look, lad, I don't need anything, it's really fine, I'm just looking for someone, and if you could help me..." Matthews ears caught a familiar voice drifting through the doors to the front area, and with a jolt of comprehension, he realized just who that voice belonged to.

_Well would you speak of the damn devil..._Sighing, Matthew pushed open the swinging doors and let his eyes glance over towards the cash register where it was obvious Raivis was going to have a breakdown if he didn't get away from the British man and back towards working with things that didn't talk to him. Placing his hand on Raivis' shoulder, Matthew offered him a small smile and gently pushed him away from the register.

"I can take care of this. I'm done in the back for now, and there are dirty tables to be cleaned." Gratefully, Raivis left with a stuttered mutter of thanks, before Matthew turned back towards Arthur, a small smile lining his lips.

Even if Matthew was slightly irked with this man for not even giving him any information in which to contact him, he didn't think it was prudent to show Arthur his annoyance.

"Good afternoon, sir. What can I get for you? Another tea and soup, perhaps? We're making onion soup again and a fresh batch could be ready in a few-"Matthew was suddenly cut off when Arthur coughed as if to clear his throat. Frowning slightly, Matthew placed his hands on the counter and peered through his hair at Arthur, observing his posture and appearance. The man in front of him wore a simple suit and jacket, both grey in colour to match the clouds that had begun to form outside. His expression was polite and proper, but Matthew could see the sadness through his eyes.

That seriously did not help.

Clearing his throat again, Arthur placed his hands on the counter and began picking at a small speck of food.

"As delicious as that soup was, I am sure you have realized that it is not the reason I have returned to this deli. I was hoping you had at least thought about what I said before I left last time? I understand that you said no, but honestly...he has...well he is worse now. I do not want to go into many details now, but I was hoping we could at least chat at some-" Matthew cut him off with a quick apology, a slightly flustered look stretched across his face.

"I can't talk about something like this here; it's not a good idea. I'm off at 7 tonight. I've thought about it, that's all I can say, but I am willing to talk with you. When and where, and you better not say here. There is no way I'm talking about this sort of thing here." Slightly taken back by Matthew's answer, Arthur began stuttering out his thanks, patting at his coat and pants, looking for something. What that something was was unknown to Matthew.

"Wonderful! I cannot tell you how much you have improved my day just by saying you would be willing to talk with me. I am going to give you my card and if I could just find a pen- ah, thank you lad- I will write down where I will be tonight." Pulling his hand away as he handed Arthur the pen, Matthew thought about his split-second decision to tell the man he was willing to talk. That really didn't mean anything, did it? Yes, Matthew knew he was willing to talk to Arthur, but _that was it._ Matthew had not made any promises to go any further with his thoughts. Did Arthur perhaps think that's what he meant? That he'd do it? Panic began to overtake and Matthew quickly began to rephrase his words into something that would make his intentions clear.

"I mean I'm not saying I'm going to do it or anything because I'm not but I am willing to talk about it but that's it you know I didn't say I would do it or anything because I made a promise so I just can't so you know I'm still not going to-" With a small smile, Arthur held up his hand to stop Matthew, a small white card stuck between two of his fingers.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew allowed himself to observe the card in between Arthur's fingers. "I understand that very well, boy. It is just nice to know that you have not altogether given up on helping him. Because face it, if you had, you would not be willing to meet with me at all. "

Sighing as Arthur handed him a card with his name and some basic work information, Matthew flipped it between his fingers and noticed that in small scribble there were the words "The Tartan" and 6-10 on it. Raising his eyebrows at Arthur, Matthew merely flipped the card between his fingers and stared him down, who at this point, had begun to squirm slightly under his gaze.

Matthew felt a small sense of victory in this, and after a moment longer of staring at Arthur, he placed the card in his back pocket and nodded his head ever so slightly at Arthur, who seemed to deflate in relief. Arthur straightened his jacket and patted his clothes as if to get any dust out, before letting his eyes drift upwards to the chalkboards with the menu written on them. Matthew smiled his worker smile and let his hand hover slightly over the cash register.

"Are you going to be buying anything from here today, sir?" Surprised by the sudden change in demeanour from Matthew's former politeness to panic to flustered then back to politeness state, Arthur merely opened and closed his mouth a few times until he could properly register what was actually written on the boards.

"I think I will just have a tea to go this time, thank you. Do you make London Fog? I think I might like that. It would remind me of home." Nodding quietly, Matthew placed the order in the cash register and quickly prepared Arthur's tea. He needed the man gone so he could think about what he'd just agreed to.

Not only had he agreed (like Arthur said) to think about helping Alfred, he was going to do it behind Ludwig's back, something that he promised he wouldn't do anymore. And he knew Ludwig would be absolutely livid if he found out it was a cancer patient he was thinking of helping. Sighing again (he'd done that a lot today), he turned around with a cardboard cup in hand, placed it on the counter and smiled at the man who had started all of this.

"Have a nice day sir, and we hope to see you again." Arthur raised his eyebrows at this but nodded nonetheless, noting that Matthew had patted the pocket where the card he'd handed him was placed. Arthur placed his money on the counter, picked up his tea and left the deli with a small wave of his hand, moulding into the crowds of people that were making their way down the street until he was gone.

Groaning, Matthew rested his elbows on the counter and began to massage his temples. What had he gotten himself into? Ignoring Raivis' stutter of concern, Matthew let himself fall into his thoughts, weighing the pros and cons of agreeing to helping Alfred.

He knew that helping Alfred would obviously keep him alive and happy, and judging on the research he'd done, he would be helping Philadelphia indirectly. He'd be making others very happy, because it was obvious that people liked Alfred. However, he also knew that if he did this, he'd be breaking the promise he made to Ludwig. And then again, Matthew knew that he'd also have to deal with the repercussions of helping Alfred. And Ludwig would be irate with him. Ludwig would be irate.

_Ludwig would be so fucking upset if he broke his promise and didn't say anything._

Running his hands through his hair, Matthew made his decision. He'd go to the place written on the card, listen to Arthur and decide from there if he was willing to help Alfred, and if it was really as serious as Arthur was making it seem. That was the best idea, Matthew knew it. Because doing something without knowing everything about it was just stupid, right?

Like he'd never done that before.

Nodding to himself, Matthew got back to work on cleaning the tables in the deli, hoping to get this whole mess behind him as soon as possible.

Only after Arthur left did Matthew realize that the address of this place was not written on the card.

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><p>It was now 7:30 the same evening, and Matthew found himself wandering the streets of Philadelphia, a loose hoodie thrown over his work clothes and a toque nestled on his head (because honestly, it wasn't <em>that <em>cold, even though all the people around him had winter jackets on). He'd now passed over four bars, none of them sporting the name 'The Tartan' and he was beginning to think that it would be better to call it a night instead of roaming the streets like a lost puppy.

But then again, Matthew would feel terrible for ditching Arthur and not being able to let him know that he wouldn't be meeting up with him. Matthew seriously hated making people wait for him, and the fact that he was already half an hour out of work and he still hadn't found the bar was eating at him.

Tucking his hand into his pocket, Matthew pulled out the card and re-read it for what felt like the millionth time, taking note of the weirdly loopy writing that Arthur seemed to possess. The corners of it were already beginning to fold and crease in odd ways reminiscent of someone who'd been playing with it for hours.

Which, in all honesty, he had been doing all along his walk to find this bar because he kept hoping that the card would suddenly reveal the location of the bar to him. Perhaps by the appearance of more of Arthur's loopy writing with a scribbled map indicating the closest intersection of The Tartan would work, right?

Alas, Matthew was out of luck, and no such writing or scribble appeared on the card. Sighing again, he shoved it back into his pocket, grumbling and kicking at a small pebble on the ground that had the great misfortune of simply being in his way.

He walked on, eventually just letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go. A left here, a right there, another right, a left and a quick jog across a street found Matthew standing in front of a bar (not the one he was looking for but he wasn't caught up in the details right now) by the name of Barkrakk. Smiling lightly, he walked inside, greeted by the presence of several others who were there simply to drink the night away. He made to walk towards a table when suddenly an arm reached around his neck and pulled him back into a firm...something.

"Hey Matthew! It's been awhile, how's it going?" Matthew craned his neck around and smiled up at Matthias, a tall blonde with spiky blonde hair, who grinned easily back at him.

"G'evening, Matthias. I'm doing fine, and you?" A small glare was shot in Matthias' direction, courtesy of Matthew, who promptly ignored it and dragged Matthew over to the bar.

"I'm fine, completely and 100% fine! Been up to the norm, you know. Working and sleeping. With eating in their somewhere!" Matthew knew to take his casual response as 'I'm clean, still clean, keeping myself busy and not thinking about it', and he was pleased to hear that his friend (via odd circumstances) was doing alright.

"'Ey Niels! Look who it is!" Matthias thumped Matthew on the back, causing Matthew to trip forward and he quite ungracefully fell into the bar. Looking up, his eyes met with another man who also had rather pale blue eyes (some would argue they were a lot like Matthew's, sort of purple) and a rather expressionless face. Nonetheless, Matthew saw the eyes soften a bit as the man acknowledged Matthew.

"Hello again, lege. Been well?" Matthew nodded, smile widening ever so slightly at the nickname the other had for him (he still didn't know what it meant), before sitting at a stool and thinking about a drink.

"Maple sour?" Grinning, Matthew made to say yes but stopped himself when he realized Niels was already preparing him a drink. Pulling out his wallet, he made to remove a twenty, but Matthias placed his hand over Matthew's, an uncharacteristically soft smile on his face.

"You never pay here, you know that." Matthew pouted and stuttered, attempting to come up with a reason why he didn't deserve a free drink. Matthias merely shook his head and gestured towards Niels, who was staring back at Matthew with a face that read 'Don't even think about it". Shoulders slumping in defeat, Matthew placed his wallet back in his pocket and took hold of the drink Niels had placed in the bar, sipping at it slowly.

The thought of the drink, and the two of them together brought back some rather interesting memories for Matthew.

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><p><em>Matthew grimaced as Gilbert slammed down his empty beer mug, grinning widely. He had surprised Matthew by showing up at his apartment and unceremoniously dragging him away from a quiet night of reading to a bar to 'go and do some awesome drinking'. This was mostly because Gilbert believed that Matthew was a hermit, or at least well on his way to becoming one.<em>

_And this was how Matthew found himself sitting across from Gilbert, who was quickly on his way to being unable to walk home unassisted. Matthew wondered briefly if this had been Gil's plan all along. _

"_Ah, Matthew, you've really gotta learn to drink faster, you're never gonna get your drunk on by sipping dainty little drinks like that!" Matthew merely smiled, making a point to raise his pinkie finger as he took another sip of his maple sour, maintaining eye-contact with Gilbert all the while, whose smile had turned into a displeased frown. _

"_Oh fine, do what you want, you passive_-a_ggressive little ass." _

"_That's exactly what I plan on doing." Gilbert merely rolled his eyes and stood up from the table, intent on obtaining another mug of beer. Matthew took this moment to set his own drink down and let his eyes wander over the people in the bar. _

_There were people of all types, from slow sippers like himself (winding down after a hard day's work), to the people who were so drunk that they were almost falling off of their stools (somewhere he was sure Gilbert was headed). His eyes were suddenly drawn to someone in the bar that was in neither of these states. He was a man of small stature, his hair a pale blonde, and although his face appeared neutral, his eyes held a look of panic (something Matthew was all too familiar with, considering how Ludwig always seemed to worry about Matthew and what he did). _

_Curious, Matthew let his focus stay on the man who was now walking behind the bar (he must work at the joint) and pulling out a wet cloth, along with what appeared to be ice. He then quickly made his way to the back of the bar, disappearing through a door for a few moments before reappearing, in search of something else. _

_Matthew, now too curious to sit still any longer, pushed himself off his stool and made his way carefully over to the bar. He stopped by the end of the bar leading to the set of back doors, leaning against the bar and watching the man, who had just returned again. Matthew took this moment to make himself known to the man. Stepping forward, he tapped him on the shoulder. _

"_Excuse me sir, but are you alright?" The man jerked, turning so he was facing Matthew, eyes regarding him warily. He nodded his head minutely and turned back around, intent on continuing his search when a crash followed quickly by a weak groan and a garbled yell (something that sounded foreign, Matthew guessed) was heard. _

_The man's eyes widened fractionally before he quickly dropped whatever was in his hand and ran to the back, Matthew forgotten in his haste. Frowning, Matthew quickly followed after; intent on finding out what had the rather stoic man spooked. Pushing through the doors, Matthew was greeted by the sight of the man crouched over another body that appeared to be leaning against a large stack of boxes. The only visible part of the body were the legs, which were dressed in a pair of ripped jeans. His frown deepening, Matthew took a step forward lightly so as to be able to see what was attached to the set of legs, and also to see what was wrong. _

_Unfortunately for Matthew, as he stepped forward his foot came into contact with a small bottle, and Matthew was provided with a very brief view of a man with tall spiky blonde hair (the man was groaning, eyes closed and head lolling on his shoulders) before the smaller man from before was suddenly standing directly in front of him, blocking the other from proceeding further. _

"_Get out." Matthew was taken back slightly, but he didn't make any attempt to move, choosing instead to peer over the other man, finally succeeding in getting a good look at the man on the floor. _

_He was sweating heavily (Matthew could see the sheen, even from where he was standing) and his eyes were continually jumping in and out of focus. The muscles along his arms and legs were stretching, being pulled taut before relaxing again, something that looked much like a nervous twitch. _

_Grimacing, Matthew made to step closer to the man, his hand raising even as he made to move; a hand quickly placed itself on his chest, providing a firm resistance to him taking another step forward. Matthew simply took it and removed it carefully, looking to the stoic man who now seemed to be angry (or was it confused?). Matthew locked eyes with the man, his expression solemn. _

"_Look, I'm just trying to help him. That's all I'm trying to do. I can help him get better. I can make sure he stops being...like this." Pale eyes regarded him carefully before he nodded and moved to the side, allowing Matthew to pass him (Niels would never say it, but the only reason he stepped aside and let a complete stranger deal with Matthias was because the look in Matthew's eyes as he explained that he just wanted to help was one of sadness – complete kindness, but also so sad)._

"_Are you a doctor?" Niels asked the back of the man he'd allowed to help Matthias. Matthew turned his head to face Niels and smiled softly, a rather knowing look on his face (it chilled Niels a bit, giving him the impression that said 'I know you won't believe me anyway'). _

"_Something like that." With that, he turned his head back towards the man on the ground, leaning down onto his knees beside the man who was now breathing heavily, far too heavily. He sounded like he was straining to breathe. Matthew rolled his sleeves back before gently placing the palm of his hand onto the man's forehead, cupping it comfortably. Niels took a step forward, intent on seeing what the stranger was up to. What he saw made his eyes widen in shock. _

_It took a moment or two, but once it started the difference was obvious. Matthias' breathing had evened out and his body had stopped twitching and convulsing. Even the sweat on his face was disappearing. Finally, he opened his eyes slowly, coming into awareness of his surroundings. His eyes quickly landed on Niels, who still held the same look of utter disbelief. _

"_Yo Niels, what's wrong? What happe-whoa!" Matthias was suddenly cut off by the weight of a body falling into his lap and a hand slipping down his face. Looking down, he confusedly took in the appearance of the man now resting in his lap. _

_Although resting was a far stretch from the actual truth. The boy's blonde hair was sticking to his face from the sweat that already begun to form along his face and neck, and his eyelids were fluttering open and closed, unable to focus on anything. Grimacing, Matthias held the boy up and ever so slightly away from his body, noticing how much the boy was shaking, and how fast his heart was beating. Bewildered, Matthias looked up to Niels, gesturing to the man in his lap wordlessly. _

"_Who's this guy, Niels? He's...he's all messed up and I mean...what happened to him?" Niels said nothing for a moment, merely kneeling down beside the both of them and placing a hand gently to Matthew's forehead, eyes widening fractionally before he gestured to Matthias and both moved to pick Matthew up, who at this point, had gone very pale. _

"_You overdosed and...now he overdosed and you're fine. I...I don't know." He shook his head and directed Matthias towards a wall, placing Matthew gently down so he was better propped up. Niels picked up a previously discarded cloth and began to lightly wipe the sweat sheen off of Matthew's face. This seemed to bring Matthew around, as he groaned and groggily opened his eyes, and attempted to focus on Niels or Matthias. Unfortunately for him, his eyes refused to focus and he only saw two large blurs. _

_Lifting his hand in the direction of what he hoped was the man who had previously been on the ground, Matthew opened his mouth and attempted to speak, but what came out was only a choked cough. Grimacing, he tried once again. _

"_You...you'll...be fine." He coughed again, letting his hand fall to his side as he fell into a drug-induced haze. Matthias made to wake the boy up, but stopped when he noticed that he'd gone into convulsions. Acting quickly, Matthias scooped Matthew into his arms and carefully followed Niels (who'd understood exactly what Matthias had intended to do and started walking towards a better resting area) up a set of stairs to the apartment above the bar. He set Matthew down on the couch carefully and both set to work, caring for the sickly boy. _

_(The bar was now unmanned save for a few bartenders and waitresses, but Niels did not care too much. This boy was far more important, and besides, it wasn't like he was always working). _

_Both men knew how to care for an overdosed person (Niels researched for the day when Matthias would do one shot too much, and Matthias hung around enough people to learn), and so each went to work, continually wiping the sweat off of Matthew, keeping him turned on his side to prevent him choking on his own vomit even as Matthew made weak attempts at throwing them off. They knew that Matthew vomiting was not good, but they couldn't do anything to stop it. _

_They'd been doing all they could, and although at one point Matthew's lips had gone a deathly blue and he'd stopped breathing and oh god what if his heart stopped completely- Niels had fortunately been ready for something like this and quickly performed CPR on the twitching body, and after a few compressions and breaths, the boy started coughing and his breath, although raspy, had returned. _

_Both had sighed a breath of relief for themselves, and for the stranger. _

_It was also after that moment that both noticed the boys breathing had started to even out. His lips were no longer blue, and colour was returning to his skin. The sweating had dwindled somewhat, and both questioned this with confusion. Even if he had started these symptoms early in the evening prior (and it was 10 in the morning now), there was no logical way the boy had already run through such a strong overdose. _

_But here he was, breathing slowly returning to normal and his complexion didn't look quite so pale. _

_And that's how Matthew had woken up, free of the drug-induced coma- with the faces of two very odd men staring at him. Needless to say he'd been surprised enough to let out a rather loud yelp and had quickly shuffled himself down the couch to the furthest area away from the both of them, kicking and scrunching the entire set of blankets as he did so. _

"_Wha-wha-what was- ...hi...?" Matthew felt himself shrink slightly under both of the men's intense stares, unsure of what he'd done to deserve such looks, until he suddenly realized he was not in his own bed at all. In fact, he wasn't even in his own apartment. And then the memories of last night came rushing back –the bar with Gilbert, the sickly man, the pain, the breathlessness, all of it. His eyes widened and he shot off the couch, attempting to reach the door as quick as possible. Unfortunately for him, those blankets that had accumulated at his feet decided that no, he needed to stay close to the couch, and promptly tripped him, resulting in a face-planted Matthew._

_The sound of laughter rang through Matthew's ears, and he raised his head to see the taller of the two laughing heartily at him, and the other had a small smile upon his face. _

_Matthew had the grace to turn a brilliant shade of red and let his head fall back to the ground, making the connection with a dull thump. The muffled garble of "fmm mfff..." was heard by both Niels and Matthias, who raised an eyebrow in a similar motion before kneeling down beside Matthew and poking him in the side. _

"_You okay, kid? Wouldn't want to have to treat you for a concussion after all the trouble we went through last night..." Matthew simply raised his head, his face still somewhat red as he uttered out a soft apology for falling. Pulling himself to his knees, Matthew gazed warily at the two who had seen exactly what he was capable of. _

"_...Where do you want me to start?"_

* * *

><p>And so after a rather exciting night that Matthew honestly had no recollection of save for the pain, these two had become fast friends, and oddly protective. Each both wanted to keep him safe from anyone who would even think about hurting him, exploiting him or even just pestering him.<p>

Which immediately made Matthew think of a certain congressman. Grumbling, Matthew tossed back the entire drink, and with a satisfied gulp, dropped the glass back down onto the bar. Both men looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"What's up, kid? You normally take about an hour to finish off dinky little drinks like that. Man, you'd never win a drinking contest." Matthew merely glared at him, crossing his arms on the bar and leaning his head on them.

"How would you know? You've never seen me _drink_ drink. And I'm fine...just annoyed because I'm supposed to meet up with some guy but the thing is the damn idiot didn't even tell me where the freaking place is!" Grumbling once again, he started thumping his head into his arms (which were very much not enjoying the abuse) until he heard Niels speak up.

"Where were you meeting?" Without looking up from his position of head-on-the-bar, Matthew removed an arm from its resting place and shuffled through his pocket briefly before pulling out the small, crinkled card.

"...The Tartan? That's one street over, Matthew."

The thumping stopped.

Matthew raised his head.

"...Seriously?"

"Why would I lie?" Groaning, Matthew lifted his head and swiped the card out of Niels hand (but not before Niels wrote the address down) and shoved it back into his pocket.

"Great. Just greeeeat. Okay then, I've got to get my ass over there. There's a grouchy Brit waiting for me...hopefully." Pushing himself off the stool, he smiled and waved to the both of them before running out the door to the bar, but not before hearing a loud 'see you later, kid!' from Matthias.

Matthew rolled his eyes and muttered 'I'm not a kid", setting his pace to a brisk walk, he made for the bar in which Arthur was likely still waiting.

* * *

><p>Matthew quickly decided that he did not like The Tartan. It may have been that he was just too used to Niels and Matthias' bar, but regardless, something about this place bothered him. It just felt too different, like the air was charged with a fight waiting to happen.<p>

Matthew just wanted to get in, tell Arthur no, then get out. Eyes wandering over the place, he finally spotted Arthur sitting at the far end of the room in a booth. Edging his way between the few people seated between him and his destination, Matthew's dislike of the place grew. It was far too crowded for his own liking.

Just as Matthew reached the booth where Arthur was sitting, Arthur raised his own head and saw the man, a smile forming on his face.

"Ah, hello Matthew. Glad you got here alright." Matthew's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to blame Arthur for not even thinking about the map or the address of the bar when Arthur cut him off before he even got started.

"I am terribly sorry, I forgot to write the address of this place down and only remembered when I was back in the office with Alfred. I meant to return and tell you, but I was absolutely bogged down in work and I only just got here about 20 minutes ago. I would have stopped by the deli but by the time I was done you had already gone and I do hope you can forgive me boy, for my slip-up." Matthew's mouth clicked shut as he sat down across from Arthur, nodding his head before taking off the hoodie and toque he wore to reveal a simple black t-shirt.

"It's fine, I know a few friends who own a bar around here and they managed to direct me in the right direction." Arthur smiled and nodded his head while Matthew fiddled with his hands in his lap.

Arthur looked to him, looked down, looked back at Matthew before quickly taking a drink of his beer.

Matthew continued to fiddle.

Both of the seemed unwilling to start a conversation, and it was only when Arthur finished his drink that he decided to break the awkward silence.

"So. Alfred. I know you said you would not help but please, just think about it for a moment. Let me lay down everything I know, and what we have done to treat him. Then, please think about your answer long and hard." Matthew nodded, his hands stilling in his lap as he knew that these next few minutes would decide whether or not he was going to break his promise to Ludwig.

"Thank you. So he is...he is in worse condition than when we last saw you. The cancer he has is lung cancer, and it is growing and affecting him far faster than the doctor's predicted. He does not eat nearly as much as he did before, and he is having trouble breathing. He is coughing up blood and-" Arthur stopped himself for a moment, wiping his eyes and taking a steadying breath before continuing.

"He has told me that he is sore in his chest a lot, and even though he does not tell me every time, I know he is in a constant state of pain. And I do not think he is sleeping because of it. He shakes sometimes, too, and I'm not sure if that is from the fatigue, or if it is another symptom. Now as for treatment, and I know you said that we will have to rely on current healthcare, but I do hope you remember I said it was not going to be enough? Well apparently the cancer has spread further than they thought, and even worse, it is malignant."

Arthur stopped himself again, running a hand through his hair and slumping forward in his chair.

"They said that nothing they do at this point can help. The chemo is not helping, and they said it would be pointless to do anything further. If nothing is done, I am going to watch my friend waste away into nothing. And Matthew, I do not mean to say that you are less important, but...I do not know how I could watch that happen without wanting to put Alfred out of his misery."

With that said, Arthur lowered his head and left the silence to take over.

And Matthew thought. He thought of everything Arthur said, from the symptoms to the treatment, all the way to the hopelessness that permeated Arthur's tone of voice. And he knew then what his answer was.

"Arthur?" The man in question raised his head and eyed Matthew, trying to find the answer in his eyes.

"I- you do not have to make the decision immediately, but soon would be go-" Matthew cut him off abruptly.

"You don't need to wait, I've already made my decision. I think I did awhile ago, really." Arthur's entire face fell, because hadn't Matthew already said he wouldn't do it? But a look of shock quickly replaced the sadness after the following words.

"I'll do it. I'll help Alfred."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO DAMN LONG I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY! D: I was just terribly bogged down by homework and then I just couldn't get one part to write itself! Anyway, I'm just going to say that if I do this again, please have patience with me.

My education will always take precedence in my life. c:

I WILL TRY TO DO BETTER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER! :D

I might even get started tomorrow.

WOULDN'T THAT BE AWESOME?

With that having been said, here are the only 2 translations in the chapter (Forgive me if they're wrong, I used Google Translate...OTL)

Lege: Norwegian - Doctor

Barkrakk: Norwegian - Barstool

And last, but most definitely not least, I thank you all so much for your reviews, favourites and subscriptions! It means a lot to me, really. I really enjoy reading them, and they always put a smile on my face.


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